Of Light and Darkness
by Sol is Power
Summary: Tellius is thrown into chaos as the prophesized battle of light and dark rages. Post RD. First fanfic R&R Please. Rated for violence and language.


**DISCLAIMER; I DON'T OWN FIRE EMBLEM.**

**A/N: This is my first fanfic, and my first time writing a serious story, so please rate and review.**

_Sages have argued time and again when and if it will happen, the great battle between light and dark, good and evil. Sages have argued if it has already happened. Sages argue, and nothing comes out of it._

_The argument that is being referred to is the legitimacy of an ancient inscription in a Daein temple. This is a prediction by the "Great Wise One" an ancient enigmatic monk who saw, and predicted the future. He was supposedly never wrong. He predicted floods, rain, wars, weather, how crops would grow that year, his own death, and a great conflict that would consume the world. Is he right? Has it happened? The Mad King's War and the conflict against Ashera could qualify as great battles of good and evil. There is however widespread doubt about this prophesized event having already occurred, the devastation would be total, death rates would be inconceivable, or at least says the inscription. Tellius has not faced that kind of devastation... yet. Or has it? Was the wise man wrong? The sages argue, and nothing comes of it. _

_This is the story of that inscription, and how it was all too true._

It was a nice warm April day in Ohma, Crimea. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Most of the townspeople were enjoying the beautiful weather working in the fields, talking in the square, or taking a break and just having a good time. One boy however was stuck trimming the hedges behind his house that no one ever looked at.

His name was Steven Parley.

Steven was a minor noble from Melior and had recently moved to Ohma with his two sisters; Portia and Marie, and his mother, Susan. He was seventeen, slim, tall, quiet, he had short reddish brown hair that was impossible to comb, brown eyes, pale skin, and an aura of command and dignity around him no matter where he was at any time. Due to his looks and the way he carried himself and spoke, to most he was very intimidating, few people wanted to know or have anything to do with him so he had only two or three real friends, and he had left those along with his manor behind in Melior. Now he was living in a small house a very, very small and uncomfortable house compared to his mansion in Melior which her reluctantly gave up, but now anything was better then Melior.

Melior is actually the opposite of the happy, bustling utopia it is seen as. It is a crime infested city, if you were a member of the middle or upper class the chances that you would be robbed if you left your home were so high that it was seen as necessary to be armed at all times. This fact is unknown to most of the public. Living in a place like that is understandably difficult, and so, like many other families, the Parley's decided to leave Melior behind and moved to the booming farm town of Ohma.

Ohma had changed quite a bit from what it once was as well. The once small hilly town had quadrupled in size and had several mansions and large houses which belonged to wealthy nobles who had decided to get away from the crime and grime of Melior and lead a more menial existence raising crops while still having ties to the court. Of course, the nobles never actually worked on their farms and had large amounts of workers who did the hard labor heavy activities. The nobles were rarely seen in public thinking themselves so far above the common farmers that they should never be seen together.

Steven's family wasn't noble enough to be able to have anything to do with the wealthy land owners and was too noble for the farmers to consider him trustworthy or amicable. That coupled with Steven's dry, cold, and not very inviting personality led to him having no social life. He didn't mind though, he enjoyed sparring with his sister, Portia, and reading, which along with farm work was all he had really been doing in Ohma for the two weeks he had been living there. Steven's family also wasn't wealthy enough to hire workers, which is why he was trimming the hedges in the middle of a nice afternoon.

"This is so stupid", muttered Steven. "Of all the things I can be doing on such a nice day, mother, who isn't even home, is making me trim the hedges that no one sees because no one ever comes here since we have no friends. We're to rich to mix with the farmers and too poor to be seen with the pretentious nobles. So why do I have to trim the stupid hedges? Why because the house has to look 'prim and proper for people of our class'", he said imitating his mothers voice. "If that's the case why don't you trim the dam'n hedges yourself?" he almost yelled while hacking off another twig almost as thick as his arm.

"Steven," said a young voice behind him.

Steven turned around and saw a young redheaded boy who was about four, standing there looking up at him with keenly focused green eyes.

"Hi Ricky", said Steven nervously. "I can't play right now... and please don't tell your mother what you just heard me yell."

As sad as it was, Ricky was the only person in Ohma who approached Steven on any occasion, and it was usually because he wanted to play tag or hide and go seek. For whatever reason, Ricky was able to see through Steven's tough anti-social exterior and find the actually nice and fun loving teenager within. Ricky was very smart for his age, and the two over the past weeks Steven had been in Ohma had become fast friends.

"I did not come with the intention of you playing hide and seek with me", said Ricky. "I came because there is what appears to be an army standing outside of the main gate. Mayor Brom wishes that all of those who are able to fight arm themselves and assemble at the main gate."

"Ricky, are you okay? You never talk so... seriously... I didn't even know you had half of those words in your vocabulary," said Steven.

Yes Steven I am fine, but I have seen these men outside, they are armed and apparently disciplined, that and they have no intention of settling whatever they came here for peacefully."

"You're sure that this isn't the Crimean Main Army?"

"Positive."

"_Ricky never calls me Steven..."thought Steven._ "_I've never seen him so serious in the two weeks I've known him. Even though he's a fun loving calculating kid I doubt anyone would lie about something like this... He's probably telling the truth..."_

"All right, I'll go get my sword and some armor... I'll tell my sister too." said Steven.

"Good, please hurry," said Ricky. "Time is of the essence."

Steven in an almost happy manner dropped the shears he was using and ran through his back door to the inside of his small house. He nearly tripped over a vase as he ran to his room. There he grabbed his fencing sword out of its display case next to his bed, and almost as an afterthought decided to put on some of his old leather fencing armor. He pulled the set out of his corner cupboard and put back all of the clothes that fell out as he grabbed the pieces of armor.

Despite being originally designed to protect the wearer from only slashes from a dull blade, the armor could now stop an arrow and his sword could go through steel. Steven had paid a blacksmith a handsome amount of gold to modify the armor and sword so he could take on street thugs, to which he had long been a victim of their violence.

"_Man, those were some bad times," thought Steven as he vividly remembered being shoved to the ground by some ruffians, then having his wallet stolen. "Those nobodies are the reason I started fencing and self defense classes...THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE GOING DOWN MEMORY LANE!!!"Thought Steven as he snapped himself out of his reverie._

"Steven! There is no need to make such a racket! Why, what would mother say if she were home?" somehow, marie made that sentence sound just like Steven's mother would say it.

"I don't care what she would say Marie," said Steven. "We both know that, now please stop acting like mother and go and get Portia."

"Why?" asked Marie.

"Because there is a hostile army at our doorstep and I don't think they came to get some of your signature tea, so please tell Portia to get a sword and go to the front gate and that I'll meet her there."

"You're taking on the Crimean Army?" asked Marie incredulously.

"Did I ever say I was? No I didn't so please, act your full twenty six years of age and get Portia," said Steven.

"Oh, is General Geoffrey in command? He's sooo handsome..."said Marie dreamily.

"Idiot", muttered Steven as he finished fastening his greaves and pushed past his sister into the dining room.

Marie was not normal. She couldn't focus, do menial work, and rarely spoke, Steven was actually surprised that she had started imitating people again; she cut that habit three years ago. Her "state", whatever it may be, was getting progressively worse and now, she averaged one sentence three weeks. Whatever disease or illness Marie had gotten was a mystery Steven and Portia had tried to piece together for ten years. Marie could barely do anything herself now, and was very uncooperative in just about any subject unless you actually paid her money to do whatever it is you wanted. This led to Steven becoming very impatient with her, probably more, he admitted to himself, than she deserved considering her condition, but now, with lives possibly on the line Steven didn't have time for her antics.

Marie had always reminded Steven's mother of his father, a "kindhearted idiot that really was too frail to do work and too stupid to supervise it". Many times Steven had heard her berate Marie for doing something idiotic like telling the maid the combination to the safe in which all of the families money was stored, even though she probably couldn't help it. Once his mother said to Marie; "You are the polar opposite of Portia and Steven, they can work, they can lead, they can fight, and they can socialize, you can do absolutely nothing besides be a hindrance and act stupid, why you are a mistake... you don't even look good for goddesses sake!"All Marie did was sit there, looking dumb while her mother cried into her hands.

Steven's mother was a bitch who couldn't understand her children and had a very uneducated opinion of how the world worked. She was also extremely austere and very unkind and unloving. That was Steven's opinion of her and one of the reasons why he hated his mother so much.

Marie looked like her father too, she was of average height, she wasn't even up to Steven's shoulder, she had amber eyes, long green hair and an ever present obsession with all things related to tea and poetry, that is whenever she displayed signs of intelligent thought, or thought at all.

Steven walked through the dining room and down the connecting hallway, and on the second door on the left he stopped and knocked twice and then waited for a response.

"What is it?" answered a voice after a measurable period of silence.

"Portia," said Steven. "I don't know the details, but apparently some sort of army or militia is acting with hostility towards Ohma. Mayor Brom wishes all citizens that are able to fight gather a weapon and meet at the main gate to combat the threat."

"Then why is it that I don't hear any sort of noise that you usually would in a battle?" said Portia. "I think that you trust that Ricky boy too much, I'm guessing he is the only one who would be willing to tell you?"

"_How is it that she can always make such a good guess?"thought Steven smiling inwardly._ Only his sister could do that.

"Yeah, Ricky told me but I doubt he would lie, plus we're on the entirely opposite side of town to where the gate is, so maybe you are so engrossed in your studies that you can't hear," said Steven.

"Me? Engrossed in my studies? Never!" said Portia with a laugh. I'll meet you there... and you better not be lying", she said opening the door. I just have to find my sword... I think I know where it is in the attic but I don't want to slow you down, go ahead.

Portia was Steven's twin sister and best friend. They were almost of exactly the same height, build, and personality. They also had the same hair and eye color. Portia however was smarter when it came to school but Steven always won when it came to anything physical. Neither of them were stupid, both had access to a good education, or did, until their mother had hoarded most of the money the family had, this led to Portia only going to school, she showing showing a little more promise then Steven. Neither of them was unfit either, thanks to the fact that they both had to train with swords daily so they could actually survive going outside into the streets of Melior.

"Alright, see you there, alive, hopefully," said Steven, his tone becoming icy. "Remember what master Sharote taught you and you'll be fine... Just hope this thing can be resolved peacefully, said Steven half to himself.

Steven walked through the house and pulled open the front door, which as soon as he opened a nice cool breeze flew in. From there he sprinted through the middle of the town, past the market stalls in front of the town fountain and then, a few seconds later he was at the gate with a bunch of scared farmers that were armed with whatever they could get their hands on, old axes , used swords and slightly bent lances. Steven noticed that there were no nobles and that none of the crowd noticed or cared that he was there the crowd was so worked up. Steven could practically see the fear radiated through the air.

"I can't reckon why anyone in a right state of mind would want to attack us," said one man with an axe to another with a sword. "We ain't at war, is we?

"Does that really matter? No it ain't got nothin' to do with this here matter so just fergit about it."

Several other similar arguments rang through the air as the townspeople tried to take guesses over what was going on. The volume escalated, until in a few minutes everyone was yelling.

"QUIET!" yelled a voice in the front from somewhere very near the gate.

Everyone became silent.

Steven could now see the owner of the voice, it was a man in heavy brown armor, he had an axe in one hand and his helmet in the other. It was Mayor Brom.

"All right, these people ain't a listinen' to our attempts to ask them what the hell they want, but they made one thing clear when they tried to shoot our volunteer messenger, Roll, with an arrow", said Brom looking at a wiry thin boy. "That is that they are not here for friendly reasons. However, maybe we can resolve this here dispute peacefully and make them think twice about doing whatever it is they want if we show 'em how many of us there are," finished Brom his short speech drawing cheers of approval.

"Yeah, I reckon them yankees won't mess with us once they see our numbers and our willingness to protect our livelihoods," yelled a voice from the crowd.

"You said it!" yelled another.

Several other affirming shouts were followed by the noise of heavy gears turning. The two heavy stone doors that were one of only two entrances to the town slowly opened, followed by the sound of several war cries as the mob charged out, Steven walking behind. Suddenly the crowd stopped, frozen with fear. Steven, trying to figure out what could have stopped a bunch of hot-blooded farmers so quickly pushed his way to the front to find the reason what the holdup was, half of the crowd wasn't even out of the gate. Being taller by about a foot has its perks, before he was even at the middle of the pack Steven could see the reason the crowd had stopped.

"_Are you sure this isn't the army?"thought Steven._

Steven could see at least fifty professional looking soldiers that were all in battle formation on the opposite end of the large open grassy field near some woods which the gate opened into. Of those fifty, he counted two horsemen riding towards the gate, about ten heavily armored knights forming the front line, behind them were about thirty normal soldiers armed with swords, axes, or lances. Behind the main body of troops were about ten mages, marked by their capes blowing in the wind. Behind the mages were several pieces of ballistae and a catapult, each piece manned by an archer.

The horsemen were nearly at the gate now. One of them was carrying a very intimidating flag that looked like a bleeding heart; only real blood was smeared on the flag.

As the flag came into general view of the crowd, frightened whispers broke out followed by louder frightened whispers, and then silence as one of the horsemen, the one not carrying the flag spoke.

"So, farmers of Ohma, your time to choose has come. Baron Brissius has asked we procure laborers. You have a choice; mark me, an important one. Return with us as slaves, or die heretics to the cause."

No one spoke, no one moved, no one did anything, just stared at the man who, with little more than a platoon was threatening their livelihood with slavery, albeit, he was being pretty persuasive about it.

After several moments of silence the rider continued impatience and rage clearly evident in his voice.

"Well, what is your decision? Who is your leader? Will he step forward?"

After no one moved for a few seconds he yelled again, in an unnaturally loud and commanding voice.

"WILL HE OR SHE STEP FORWARD?"

At this outburst several of the now quaking farmers had jumped back at least six paces, making it look as though Steven had moved forward.

"_Oh shit," thought Steven who was now to surprised to move or speak, "why Goddess why?"_

"So this _boy_ is your leader?" asked the man, deliberately putting extra emphasis on the word boy.

After no one objected the man continued.

"_Boy,_ you have the fate of a town on your hands. Now tell me, what is your decision?"

Steven for a few moments was too stunned to speak, he was wondering why either his sister or Brom hadn't spoken up and said that he wasn't in charge. That's when Steven realized he didn't see his sister, which probably meant she wasn't there because she was taller than everyone. Then he realized that the man's patience was running thin and so, picking up resolve and nerve from deep within him, Steven cleverly retorted.

"For a _boy_ this is a very difficult decision, would his grace Brissius be gracious enough to give a _boy_ like me say... half an hour to think this over?"

"Ha-ha!" laughed the man. "I am not Brissius, but I'm sure if he were here he would surely appreciate the fact that in these circumstances someone having the courage to sass him... so I'll tell you what, the baron feels very gracious today, he will give you forty-five minutes, use them wisely.

"All right people, back through the gate," said Steven waving them back as though they were cattle.

The scared witless farmers staggered back, Steven closely behind, the gates closing behind them. Once everyone was in, the gate was closed, and before any kind of conversation could break out Steven spoke.

"Alright, because you people were too stupefied to speak, I'm your voice to this... man, whether you like it or not. Now, I thought we should settle what we do about this with the voice of the majority, now who is in favor of fighting these bastards off, or becoming slaves, those are really our only options.

"Ha! Who made you our leader? The decision is still Mayor Brom's of what the final action is, so, Mayor, what do we do," asked a very pissed off farmer who was twirling a lance between his fingers.

"I say we take a vote," said Mayor Brom.

**A//N So, how was it? Please tell me what you think. Love it, hate it tell me. That and what I need to work on. Was the chapter too long? Did it end too cheesily? TELL ME!!!**


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